04-05-11 “Blow up your TV, Throw away the paper, try to find Jesus on your own.”

04-05-11
“Blow up your TV, Throw away the paper, try to find Jesus on your own.”
89 miles
Meetings with remarkable men.
Having survived a severe thunderstorm last night (and even getting a few hours of sleep here and there), I greeted the rising sun with much anticipation. I might be able to dry out much of my storm drenched tent and it’s contents. First I dragged out my futon which is thoroughly soaked and is so weighty it feels like lugging out a dead body (never mind how I know). I take it and lay it atop the stone picnic table to let the sun do it’s thing. Sunshine is the best antiseptic. It’s a heating element. It’s a source of illumination. Stop! You’re all right! It’s 3-3-3 things in one! Enough fun, time to drag the rest of the stuff out. Mischa’s bedding is soaked and a pile of clothes are as well.. I put everything arrayed on the picnic table where I hope the sun will soon make it whole again. I lay the tarp out on the ground and turn the damaged tent on its sides letting the bottom dry out.
The futon is not doing well, partially because the sun had decided it will heat other areas first before directing it’s direct light path to the picnic table. So I drape it over the charcoal grill. Good idea. All the water starts spilling out of the two end hanging over the grill. It’s just barely 8am and I have much to do today. See if I can do “anything” today. I’m on empty on gas and money. Only $6 total funds from last night. My hope it that a friend who contacted me Sunday about getting some money to my account was able to do so yesterday. I charge my phone and call the bank account to see it’s status. Yes! I can move!
I determine after taking a warm shower that the items drying are not going to make it in time for my noon call to David Hungate to arrange today’s meeting/interview, so I load the car, putting the soggy futon on the back of the car and load the rest and take my last dollar to use the camp Laundromat . But there’s no change machine. I take my lone dollar in search of a likely person to make change. I get change from a person I briefly met the day before and ask if I can leave my futon to dry on the nearby picnic table as it is in full sun. I explain, I need to get gas and more change for the dryer and will be back shortly and he says he’ll watch it for me and would like to talk if there’s time when I get back.. We’d struck up a conversation the day before when I told him about my journey and mentioned where I’m “from” mentioning my current mailing address of Hughson, Ca. (It’s just an address of convenience - I’m actually homeless.) and he mentioned he’d lived in a neighboring town, Ceres. So, I say, yes, If I have the time, that would be great and head off to - I think, the BP station across from the park, but do to the store’s inbedded policies of “No” to most of my questions (Do you have a price for soda refills? No. Do you give cask back on a debit purchase? No. Do you encourage customer patronage with friendly courteous service? NO!) I but $1 of gas and drive the 7 miles or so into Lebanon. I go to the a gas station and get more gas and a refill of Pepsi (no cash back) and then go to Walmart and but $2.50 worth of stuff and try to get $5.00 cash back. It’s got to be $20. After seeing if there are any other options, I take the deal and head to get a little McInternet time. Finishing posting last nights edition and researching a few other things I realize it’s getting very close to noon when I’m supposed to call David to arrange our meeting. I’m driving back to camp and pull into the park proper just at the stroke of noon and dial David. It goes to voicemail. I leave a message and go to check on my clothes in the dryer. Not quite done. Good thing I got $2 in quarters! I add a dollar and some other clothes I found got wet and start the machine. Not time to check on my futon and talk with my neighbor, Let’s call him Simon Z.
He told me that he’d been manager for Pat Robertson’s Presidential Campaign. That he’d owned time share businesses and racehorses, and that because of falling out with Robertson of between $1000 & $4000 (he mentioned both prices at different times) hr lost tow businesses to “The Devil’s General” as he revered to Robertson. He said it was nt about the money, but a matter of principle. He went on to talk about his relationship with god and the coming “end of days”. How he made a deal with god if he’d save his son’s life when he developed childhood diabetes at the age of one. He said he used to drink a lot but those days were behind him. He said that you couldn’t trust Muslims who siad they believed their god was a loving god, because they all wanted to kill us. He also said that he believed all people go to heaven, not just Christians, because his god was an invinately loving god and how could he exclude a soul just because he didn’t believe in him?
“He’s a walking contradiction, partly fact, but mostly fiction…”
I listened to “Simon” use the “N’ word and the “J” word and say that President Obama was not born here (It’s Indonesia now) and that Hillary and “two other girls” declared war on Lybia while Obama was in ‘Brazil meeting secretly with George Soros plotting the One World Government (which I think would more likely be the Coch Brothers daily meetings, but that’s neither here or there).
I bring all of this to oyur attention because, I found this man to be personally likable, a generally kind and gentle man. A man who of strong beliefs, no matter how confused and riled up by talk radio and internet doomsday sites. I’ve had converstions like this before where the speaker would reference some radio host or some web prophecy site to back up their notions of how scary the world is…to them.
And if your play out their beliefs to a logical conclusion…what would it benefit them to be correct? To be able to say “See, I wold you the world was going to end today 12-12-12!” A One World Government? (which he said has already happened and it can’t be stopped - it doesn’t matter which party is in charge, they’re all co-opted…and I may have to conceed at least a part of his premise) Has e not been seeing the recent unrest in no lest that five countries and their leaders just this year? Will ALL of the world’s people agree to some sort of world dictatorship? I can’t conceive of that ever happening world wide. Too many people, to few “enforcers”..
What I see in this man is someone who was either tramatized by something in his life or raised with certain beliefs that he can’t shake (or won’t) because it would unravel the very nature of who he is. And I found the man conflicted between his impulse to be kind an loving, and to be a stand for what he believed. I enjoyed talking to him. But I felt both a little scared if he ever acted on some of the things he talked about doing, or what might happen if he decided “I” was not good enough to be in “his world”. He told me not to live on either of the coasts and to get protection. I questioned what he meant by “protection”. I was hoping he meant a better tent (which I do need), or a parka or thermal shield…but, as I suspected, he meant a weapon. He said this woman predicted there will be marauders raping and murdering and that I needed to protect myself.. And that I needed to have a 6 month supply of food with me at all times.
The world of fear that he lives in daily is one I can’t participate in. I don’t see it and have no time for it. I find the world open, engaging and full of hope and opportunity, regardless of economic conditions. I guess you get what you look for. As I’ve said before, I’m an optomist. I feel for Simon Z. and hope he cuts out all media (except perhaps the Weather Channel - Nature still rules!) and startes looking to the love in his heart and start opening it more and more. Meet some people he fears and find they can become friends…not all, but most, if he overcomes the steriotypes he has made of them. At his core, he is a kind man and I belief a good man. He’s just been taught some hateful premises…and bought into them.
You’ve got taught before it’s too late
Before they’re six, or seven or eight
To hate all the people your relatives hate
You’ve got to be carefully taught
During our conversation I got the call back from David Hungate for our meeting. David is a excellent bass player who has played on Boz Scaggs “Silk Degrees” album and was the original Bass player in Toto as well as a sessi0n player on thousands of songs. You’ve heard his work at one time or another, even if you hadn’t know it.
His son, Noah is a drummer and I met him and David through Facebook. Over time we’ve exchanged comments on a variety of topics including Music & Politics. This would be my first meeting with thme and I was looking forward to seeing them. I got the address, finished the conversation with “Simon Z.” perhaps a bit too long as I needed to get a new campsite at Bledsoe Creek State Park before meeting up with David & Noah. And as my futon hadn’t completely dried yet, put it in the sun before I left to meet up.
I was supposed to be at David’s at 2:30 but the path to Bledsoe (and the delayed start) meant I didn’t get to Bledsoe until our appointed meeting time, I called and let them know of the delay, got the campsite and left the tent and the futon in the sun to dry.
Getting to David’s was a bit further than I’d thought and I got there around 3pm. David’s house is on the top of a hill (Mountain?) and has a majestic view in all directions. Because the sky was cleared from the previous nights extreme weather, the view was unobstructed. To the southewst were the spires of Nashville, ot the east a huge column from a never (hopefully NEVER) completed Nuclear Power plant.
I meet David’s wife, April, who I find out is a fellow Banana Slug having attened UC Santa Cruz a few year prior to my time there (She was 1972- College 7). After deciding having the interviw outside would be too cold we settle back in to the living room. I set my little camera up on it’s flexi-tripod facing them (afterwards I wish I’d set it near them as the sound quality is very low - a limitation of the device.) we talked about the impact of the economy on the music industry immemorial and session players specifically. At the end I also did a “Desert Island’ quiz of them both just for fun…I mean, when would a get a better chance?) The converstaion was fun and easy and I really enjoyed meeting them. It was like the conversations over face book was just being continued in person. I felt gratified that we each know a good deal about each other that have been retained from our virtual connections. It didn’t seem like starting from scratch. And everyone liked Mischa she was well behaved as usual. And didn’t cause a problem. I was afraid I’d have to leave her in my car, but she passed muster in their house and even was able to come with us when David Treated Noah & I to a dinner at “Almos Famous Crosseyed Pig Bar-B-Q Company in Gallatin. Treat indeed. It would have been fun to just sit and have sweet tea and listen to the conversations of the patrons and servers as well as out conversations. Noah got me when I asked him his impression of Chris Squire. “I don’t do impressions”. (Well played, sir! Well played!)
We got back to David’s place and I said my goodbyes, David menti0ned he’d connect me to some interesting people for down the road (Muscle Shoals, Memphis and a farmer in Missouri.) We agreed to keep in touch and I headed back to camp hoping to beat the setting sun.
I lost. I got to the campsite just as light left the sky. And clear cloudless skies meant Mischa 7 I were in for another cold night. Without the futon to lie upon the gound would be not just hard but cold. I left the futon on the tabletop and set up the tent (It held together, but just barely - more duct tape and a piece of a tree branch did the tricks on the two broken tent legs) I set in minimal items and set to get as warm as possible. (one of those butane space heaters would eliminate the problem altogether…even an electric one would as this site had power! We tried to settle in and sleep. It was about 9pm by that time and it was getting colder. I woke around ignite and put on my fleece and put Mischa’s blanket on tom of her and put the sleeping bag on top of her. Around 2am I woke to the sound of coyotes howling and a bit later wok to some animal in a fight with another just north of use (maybe 100 yards) nad put on my shoes and leashed Mischa just incase we needed to retreat to the car. I stayed vigilant and started this post just to keep awake and “to do something’ it was on my mind anyway. A very interesting day.
Near 5 am it seemed to get it’s coldest. Cradling Mischa against me and getting into fetal position to conserve hear we waited for light to return. Around 6:15 the sky lightened enough for me to start pacing the ttent up and get ready for the new day.
Soon, to paraphrase what someone once sang “The sun was coming up and I’d be heading down the road”